I believe I can.
I believe I can love you, and likely will forever, and move on too.
Of crying, sobbing, wondering if the sun will actually still bother to rise tomorrow. Of being angry, of self sabotaging, blaming myself, blaming you, blaming anything else in arms reach. Of wondering why I’m not good enough (file under self sabotage), and know what?
None of it matters.
Because here’s the truth.
The sun will rise tomorrow not withstanding some Armageddon moment. I will still get up, and I’m realizing it simply doesn’t matter how much I want things to be the way they were, because they can’t. The genie has been let out of the bottle and it’s not something you can easily put back and I don’t care what Disney’s Aladdin claims. I am realizing I can’t love you, or me, or us enough for both of us. I just can’t as much as I sometimes wish I could.
I can’t fix what’s hurting in your heart. Whatever it is that’s keeping you from the life you should have if you’d only reach out and grab it. I wish I could… sometimes, and then I wish and realize I can’t. That’s work you’ll have to choose to do.
The work on the house continues. I am so excited to have my brand new home… with new house smell and everything. Of making new friends and finding new relationships. Of doing something that’s scary, really scary…and doing it in a way I wasn’t expecting to, but choosing to do. I could choose to let the house go, and stay here. But I can’t help but to feel I’d have a lifetime of regret from that. Perhaps you are the push I needed to go in another direction. To be brave, to do me, to do something new…to do me.
Now that’s not to say…
That I don’t wonder how you are, because I know you know I do. It’s not to say that I don’t pray for you still everyday, I do. That I don’t wish you’d call me. I do. And that in some crazy romance novel kind of way wish that you’d find your way back to us…I do. Though I think I do less than I did.
Just the same… I believe.
I’ll Love you still… and I’m moving on. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IiHhTdg8qrc